


2 a.m

by miss_whimsy



Category: Psych
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_whimsy/pseuds/miss_whimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-episode ficlet for He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not, He Loves Me, Oops He's Dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2 a.m

The clock on the wall said two o'clock.

Juliet stifled a yawn and pulled another file towards her. Two o'clock in the morning. She hadn't even technically been on duty tonight.

She tugged at the bottom of her shirt, feeling slightly uncomfortable in such a clinging top in her place of work, and tossed her hair back over her shoulder for what had to be the fifteenth time that night. Yanking open her desk drawer with a sigh, she pulled out an rubber band and tied her hair back. If the drawer slammed a little too loudly when she closed it, well, that wasn't her fault.

No, she'd been on a date. She'd had a pleasant evening bowling with Kyle and then the now almost obligatory call from Lassiter asking - telling - her to come in. She supposed it was her own fault. There was no real reason to say yes, but she had anyway; because Shawn had solved the whole thing, and someone needed to make an arrest. Not her exactly, but it was her team, her case. Her boatload of paperwork.

She sighed again and rubbed her face, trying her hardest to keep her her eyes off the clock. So it was two-fifteen. So her date had ended with a hurried goodbye and instead of the fireworks she'd promised herself, she'd had an awkward conversation with Shawn and then hauled two fraudsters back to the station for questioning. So what? This was what she lived for.

"Coffee," she muttered to herself. "Strong, strong, coffee. Sweet, strong..."

"Coffee?"

The coffee appeared before her as if by magic and she looked up to see Lassiter staring down at her, with a tiny frown. She thought this was one of the good frowns though. This was an, "are you okay?" frown.

"Thank you, Carlton," she said, just about managing to smile as she did so.

"You can leave that until tomorrow," he murmured, his attention mostly fixed on the files covering her desk. He sipped his coffee and reached for one, flicking through it.

"It's not a problem," she said, as sweetly as she could.

There was a tiny curve at one corner of Lassiter's mouth now. On anyone else she would have called it a smirk, but this was Lassiter and she couldn't be sure. She hadn't studied his mouth as intently as she'd studied his frowns. She'd have to work on that one.

She felt the blush start in her cheeks and spread across her face and neck. She would not be studying Lassiter's mouth. Not in any way. Not ever.

"O'Hara?"

Her eyes flicked back to his face and this time the frown was confused. "I'm almost done boss."

He raised an eyebrow at that. Sleep, she needed sleep. That was all. She took a sip of her coffee and turned back to her files. Lassiter stayed where he was for a moment and then walked quickly over to his own desk.

They worked in silence for another thirty minutes. Her phone rang once and a glance told her it was Shawn. She wondered briefly how he knew she was still at work, until his voice filled her head with an exaggerated, "Psychic, remember?" He was so full of crap sometimes.

She snorted when she realised the second thought had been in Lassiter's voice and she glanced over at him automatically, as though he was psychic himself and could somehow read her thoughts. She was startled to find him watching her.

"Is there a problem, Carlton?"

He blinked and shifted in his seat as though he hadn't even realized he'd been staring at her. "No, nothing," he answered and then looked at his watch. "You should go home. You have to be back here in six hours."

She was going to protest until another yawn stopped her in her tracks and she waved her hand in front of her face instead as if to say, It's fine, really. I enjoy it.

Lassiter rolled his eyes and stood, striding over to her desk in two steps. He took hold of the back of her chair and swung it around. "Go home."

"Good idea," she agreed finally, grabbing for a bag she realized too late she wasn't carrying. Then she yawned again.

Lassiter's hands found her shoulders and propelled her gently towards the door. "Go home, sleep an extra hour, come back. They'll still be locked up." He sounded pleased, in a tired sort of way.

She nodded again and fished her car keys out of the pocket of her jeans. "I appreciate it." She waved vaguely in the air, walking towards the door without glancing back.

"Juliet," Carlton called out just as her hand hit the door, making her stop in her tracks. She must be more tired than she thought. It was entirely possible she was dreaming.

"Yes, Carlton?"

"You do look pretty."

Juliet had to bite her lip to stop her grin. "Thank you, Carlton. Good night."


End file.
